Down London Road (29 page)

‘He is.’ Cam nodded, seeming very serious all of sudden. ‘But … he lost someone.’

An ache pierced my chest as I processed what Cam wasn’t saying. ‘A girl?’

Looking away, I could see that whatever it was that had happened had also affected Cam. ‘It was a while ago, but it changed him.’

Stunned, I shook my head, looking back at the grinning
Nate in the photo. ‘You just never know what hurts people are living with, do you? We’re all so good at hiding them.’

‘You’re the master.’

Yeah, I wasn’t going to disagree with that.

Lost for a moment, staring at the photo, feeling a deep sympathy for Nate and for the love that had been taken from him, I didn’t hear Cam move until he was standing right behind me. The heat of him, the smell of him, drew me out of my melancholy thoughts and my fingers fell from the picture frame, my body growing hot in anticipation of him.

His hands rested on my hips for a moment and that was all I needed to feel a quiver of excitement low in my belly. Strong fingers curled into the hem of my jumper and slowly he began to pull it up. The movement demanded that I raise my arms above my head and I did so, the room silent except for our soft breathing and the rustle of clothing. Darkness descended over me for a second as he tugged the jumper up over my head, cool air whispering across my skin, kissing it into goose bumps.

I shivered, letting my arms fall slowly as my jumper hit the floor.

Cam’s warm hand grazed my back gently, sweeping my hair over my shoulder. Tenderly, his fingertips brushed my skin, following the strap of my bra down my shoulder and along my upper back.

I felt a slight tug and my bra loosened, descending to the floor with Cam’s slight nudging. Another shiver moved through me and my nipples grew tight with arousal. I shifted a little, my underwear rubbing against me, damp with excitement.

He tortured me with his touch, his deft fingertips skimming my waist, my ribs, the curve of my breasts. I moaned, my head falling back, my back arching, my breasts begging to be touched. My silent pleading was ignored as Cam’s gentle exploration moved down my stomach, his hands coming to a stop on the waistband of my skirt.

Taking a step closer, so that his front was pressed against my back, Cam hooked his thumbs in the fabric of my skirt and pants and pushed down. Rather than letting them drop, he kept hold of the material with his palms pressed against it, capturing it against my body, as his fingers trailed down my bare skin. He followed the movement, slowly lowering himself to his haunches, his teasing caress coasting down my outer thighs, past my knees, down my calves, until his thumbs brushed my ankles.

Struggling to control my breathing, I shakily stepped out of my clothes. His heat rushed back up my body as he stood.

He stroked the cheeks of my ass and I would have stumbled forward into the mantel if he hadn’t wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me back into him. Something hard nudged my buttocks and I didn’t need his sudden stutter of breath to tell me it was his arousal.

Warm lips barely touched my shoulder, and then his arm was gone but not his warmth.

The sound of a zipper behind me made me slick with anticipation, my breathing growing louder in the quiet of the room. Clothes whispered and I saw his T-shirt fall to the floor out of the corner of my eye, and then the fabric of his jeans was gone against my behind, the throb
bing naked heat of his cock digging into the curve of my butt.

And then that was gone too.

Confused, I twisted my head over my shoulder, my gaze dropping to the rug in front of his empty fireplace. Naked, hard, Cam looked up at me with searing eyes. He lay there, knees bent, arms behind him, palms pressed to the floor.

He held up a hand, not saying a word, and I turned to take it. Positioning myself over him, I blushed, trembling as I stood there with my feet on either side of his hips, so vulnerable and open to him.

Cam tugged on my hand, and I followed the motion, lowering myself to my knees, the rug a soft pillow against them. Taking his erection in hand, Cam guided it to my entrance, and as I lowered myself farther, he filled me, sliding into my wet channel with a satisfaction that made us both gasp. I clasped his shoulders and eased back up ever so slightly, the delicious friction causing a pool of coiling tension in my lower belly. My lips parted in a delighted exhalation, and my eyes hooked on Cam’s as my hips began to undulate against his in perfect rhythm.

It was intense, watching the pleasure escalate in his eyes as he watched it in mine. My skin began to burn and I tried to move faster, chasing climax, but Cam slowed me, gripping my hips to falter my movement. His eyes washed over my face, taking in every tiny detail, making me feel more naked than I’d ever felt before.

I shook my head, silently telling him to stop. His grip on my hips hardened. I couldn’t look away. I wanted to
look away. It was so much. Too much. Feeling tears prick my eyes, I leaned forward, crushing my breasts against him, wrapping my arms around his neck, my lips in his hair as I rode him with torturously slow strokes.

Feeling a gentle tug on my hair, I let him pull me up, my back arching under his hold. Warm, wet heat captured my nipple as he took my right breast into his mouth, his other hand squeezing and fondling the left, pinching my nipple between forefinger and thumb. A cry fell from my lips as a sharp surge of pleasure shot between my legs, and I clutched the nape of his neck tightly, moving faster whether he wanted me to or not.

His mouth moved, pressing wet kisses over my breast, and I slammed down on him, needing more, needing everything. He groaned against my skin, his fingers digging into the muscles in my back.

‘Cameron,’ I breathed as the tension built and built, my hips moving faster against his. ‘I’m close. So close …’ Wanting his mouth when I came, I tugged gently on his hair, drawing his face up to mine, my lips falling on his, my tongue sliding deep into his mouth for a kiss made up of eroticism, of pure longing.

The tension snapped inside me. I came with a muffled cry in his mouth, and my muscles momentarily locked around him as my sex clenched his cock, wave after wave of pulsating pleasure cascading over me. I fell against him completely, my forehead on his shoulder as he pumped into me a few times before the wet warmth of his release exploded inside me, his hard grunt in my ear as he came, causing my inner muscles to pulse around him a few more times.

We stayed there for a good while, wrapped around each other.

Not saying a word.

Not needing to.

Cam groaned. ‘I have to move in an hour.’

We were lying on the rug, the faux fur blanket from his couch that Becca had bought as a moving-in gift now thrown over us. My head rested on Cam’s chest, my legs tangled with his, as his fingers teased through my hair.

‘Boo to work,’ I said with a pout, tracing the tattooed curlicues on his right arm.

‘I know. I could stay here forever.’

I smiled against his skin, utterly delighted. ‘You know, the only thing that would make this more perfect would be a real fire in that fireplace.’

He gave a huff of laughter. ‘I’ll light some candles next time.’

‘Very nice. Has anyone told you you’re a bit of a romantic?’

‘Nope. That’s definitely the first time I’ve been called that.’

Surprised, I tilted my head to look into his face. ‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously.’ His lips twitched. ‘You think I’m romantic? Baby, that doesn’t say much for those assholes you’ve dated.’

I grinned back at him. ‘Actually, you have your moments.’

With soft eyes, he gave my shoulder a squeeze. ‘You make it easy.’

‘See!’ I cried softly, my eyes glittering with utter contentment. ‘That was romantic.’

‘It was?’

‘Yes. Surely, you’ve been romantic with ex-girlfriends?’

Why oh why did I ask that? Did I really want to hear about the ex-girlfriends?

Thankfully, Cam sidestepped the question. Unfortunately, he sidestepped it by asking one. ‘So was Malcolm romantic? That Callum guy?’ There was a definite edge to the question, so I thought I’d best tread carefully. But honestly.

‘Callum could be very romantic. All hearts and flowers and shit like that.’

Cam grunted. ‘Shit like that?’

I shrugged, feeling okay talking about it now that I was wrapped in the arms of something real. ‘Looking back, it all seems fake. We were together two years. He met Cole a few times. Never met Mum. I saw him every other weekend when I could. He sent me flowers, bought me nice things, went all out on Valentine’s Day. I met his parents but knew very little about them. Hung out with some of his friends and knew even less about them. I don’t know if I even knew
Callum
. I know for a fact he didn’t know me. So, yeah … shit like that. I’d take hot sex against a desk with a guy who knows exactly what he’s getting into – pardon the pun – over flowers and chocolates any day.’

I chanced a glance up at Cam and saw him smiling widely at me. ‘I think I’m having an earthy influence on you, Johanna Walker.’

I grinned back. ‘I think so too.’

He rubbed his calf against mine and pulled me even closer. ‘And Malcolm?’

‘He had his moments. Again, I didn’t know much about him and he seemed happy with that. I knew he had an ex-wife, that his mum had passed away but his dad was alive. He had a brother he was really close with but not close enough with to introduce me. He didn’t know me at all like he thought he did … but he was a true gentleman.’

I felt Cam tense beneath me for a second before letting air out between his lips. ‘You cared about him.’

After pressing a reassuring kiss to his chest, I nodded.

That silence fell over us again, the one that seemed so full of words unspoken, so full of emotion, charging the air between us. Understanding what it meant, I felt my chest compress with the gravity of the emotion. To stop myself from saying the words too soon, I stupidly asked what I didn’t want to know. ‘Have you ever been in love?’

When he heaved a huge sigh I tried not to react physically, and when he answered quietly, ‘Yes,’ I tried not to be sick.

It was stupid, of course, to feel pain in my chest, to feel my stomach flip and my brain scream Noo!!! but I couldn’t help my reaction. Cameron had been in love.

Taking a moment to make sure my voice was steady, I sucked in another breath and then asked, ‘When? Who?’

‘Do you really want to know this?’ His voice was gruff.

‘If you want to tell me, I want to know.’

‘Okay,’ he answered gently, his hand sliding down my arm in a caress. ‘It was a long time ago. I met her ten years ago when I was eighteen. Her name was Blair and we met in our first term of uni.’

Blair
.

And he’d loved her
.

Already I was envisioning some tall, dark-haired beauty with intelligent eyes and cool self-possession like Joss. I pushed those imaginings aside. ‘What happened?’

‘We were together for three and a half years. I thought we’d get engaged, buy a house, get married, churn out some kids. I thought she was it.’

Was that a knife he was twisting in my side? I held still, trying to squash the intense jealousy and hurt I felt at his revelation.

‘However, Blair was offered a placement at a university in France to do her postgraduate degree in French literature. So I broke it off with her. I broke it off with her before she could break it off with me because I knew she was going to choose France and she knew I would never leave Scotland. I couldn’t leave my parents or Nate and Peetie behind. She was going to end it, so I just made it easy for her.’

There was so much in that confession that my throat closed with anxiety. I didn’t say a word, just threaded my fingers through his and waited for the pain to ease.

It didn’t.

A while later, we showered together and then Cam left me to go to the bar. I found myself heading up to the flat in a fog of absolute despondency. I’d tried to pull myself out of my gloomy mood, giving him easy smiles and soft kisses, telling myself that he had not once given me reason to believe that he wasn’t in this with me, that he didn’t feel what I felt when we were together.

I’d almost convinced myself as I entered my flat, but when I shut the door I came face-to-face with Mum. She swayed on her bare feet, her nightdress hanging like a sack on her gaunt frame. Her unfocused eyes and unstable feet told me she hadn’t taken it easy with the drink today. Today she’d wanted to get well and truly pissed.

‘Whereyebeen?’

Not in the mood to talk to her, I replied shortly, ‘With Cam,’ and moved past her, on my way to my room.

‘Where’d go?’

Assuming she was asking where he’d gone, I looked back over my shoulder. ‘Work.’

‘Bar,’ she scoffed. ‘Bit of a loser, eh?’

Since I worked at the bar too, I tried not to take that personally. ‘Actually he’s a graphic designer, Mum.’

‘Mmph, fancy bugger, eh?’ She gave a wee laugh and headed towards the kitchen. ‘What the fuck he doing wi’ you?’

I froze.

‘Get bored wi’ you, wee lass. No smart enough for him.’

Backtracking up the hall, I hurried into the bathroom and locked myself in, listening to my insecurities eat away at me. They sounded an awful lot like Mum when she was drunk.

But she was right, wasn’t she?

Cam had been in love with a girl who had been intelligent and interesting, heading off to Europe to do a postgraduate degree in French literature.

He’d been in love with someone who was obviously my complete opposite.

Worse, it hadn’t ended because he stopped loving her.

It ended because of his fucked-up abandonment issues.

I stared in the mirror, searching for something, something interesting, something unique, something that made me someone that Cam
needed
to be with.

I couldn’t find anything.

A sob rose up out of my mouth and I let the tears fall.

Today I’d fallen in love with Cameron MacCabe. But how could I ever expect him to love me back when
I
couldn’t find anything in me worth loving?